


houses and homes

by exoskeletons



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of incest, but mostly everyone is happy they just talk about sad things, this is so stupid and i'm just sad, ummm - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 10:39:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1301869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exoskeletons/pseuds/exoskeletons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it wasn't that weird that Mandy, after another slightly-too-quiet microwave dinner with Mickey, paused their Xbox game and asked "Would it be weird if we asked Ian if he wanted to come live with us?"</p><p>or, ian and mandy and mickey all live together and it goes about as smoothly as you would think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	houses and homes

**Author's Note:**

> hi everybody! this is tentatively planned as a chaptered fic, so this is just the intro where everyone gets set up for the rest. tw for violence. anyway, idk if this is dumb so tell me if it is! xx

Mandy doesn't know what possessed her to allow this. 

Maybe it was how empty the house had started to feel. She was used to living with a whole bunch of gross dirty boys running around, along with her dad. Svetlana had been living there too, for the last few months. She'd spent the better part of a year living with the Gallaghers, for god's sake. So living with just Mickey in a house all to themselves was weird, to say the least. Not that she missed her dad, or her other brothers for that matter. She hadn't bothered to visit Iggy and Tony in jail, and she wasn't sure when they were getting out, and frankly, she didn't give much of a fuck. It was their own fault for being dumb enough to rob The Alibi Room twice, on a day they knew perfectly well Mickey would be there. He'd laughed for five minutes straight after he pulled off Iggy's ski mask, he'd told her over a beer in their empty kitchen.

(She cared even less about Terry, but thinking about him made her think about Mickey confronting him, how shaky his voice had been as he told his dad about divorcing Svetlana, about how Terry had to leave now, about- Mandy remembered a lump in her throat as her big brother gulped and straightened his back- about how he was gay. Terry, of course, had started to beat Mick into a pulp, and Mandy hadn't even given herself time to think before she was jumping on top of him, getting her hands in a chokehold around his neck, giving Mickey time to grab a gun and shoot their dad twice in the kneecap, once in the stomach. They'd worked together, barely talking, knowing exactly what to do- put on gloves, grabbed a baseball bat, and carried their half-conscious father out into the van behind their house. Mandy tied him up tight, and they'd driven out of the city, for almost two hours, to a rural bit of Lake Michigan. Terry was fully awake again, by then, screaming bloody murder at the two of them, calling Mandy a whore, a cumbucket, calling Mickey a fag, an assfucker. "Actually, fuckhead, I'm the one getting' my ass fucked," Mickey had said, and there was a shocked silence until Mandy snorted. God, she loved Mickey. Terry had been so angry he'd stopped saying real words, just screaming with rage. Mandy climbed into the backseat and gagged him, and they spent the rest of the ride with music turned up high, feeling absurdly, manically happy for two kids on the way to murder their abusive father. When they reached the lake, pulled right up to the edge, made sure no one could see them through the darkness, Mickey opened up the back door. He'd handed the bat to Mandy, saying "You wanna start us off?" She bit her lip, looking down at her dad. She thought of all the times she'd been lying in her bed, screwing her eyes tight shut, crossing her fingers, praying to gods she didn't know the names of or even believe in that he wouldn't come plodding over to her bedroom door. She thought of all the times they didn't listen, feeling bile rise in her throat as Terry touched her. She'd started crying. Mickey'd put a hand on her back, saying "You got this, Mands," in her ear, and with a screamed-out sob, Mandy had swung. 

She'd hit Terry in the face, hearing a crunch, wanting to throw up. Blood came spilling from his nose, his mouth. He growled like a dog. "That's for every time you touched me," she'd said, and swung again. "That's for every abortion I had to have to get rid of your fucked up incest babies." She was crying hard then, when she swung one more time. "That's for hurting Mickey," she'd choked out, barely able to talk, barely able to see. He was bleeding hard, and the gag had come undone. Mickey took the bat from her lightly, holding her tight. She sobbed onto his shoulder.

"Do it, Mickey, you goddamn fucker. Just do it," Terry had choked out, his voice gurgling with warm red blood. Mickey had started talking then. "Ian Gallagher loves me. And-" he breathed in deep- "I love him back. And you almost fucked that up, but not anymore. I'm gonna be a good dad to that kid, okay? I'm gonna be a fucking great dad, the way you never fucking were. He looked up, trying to stop tears from coming. "And Dad? I love getting fucked in the ass. i love it. I'm the gayest fucking guy I know. I love sucking cock, too. I'm gonna suck Ian's cock on your grave. Okay?" He pushed Mandy lightly off of him, moving towards the backseat. "Okay," he said, and swung. 

Mandy would probably never forget the way Terry's head split open like a watermelon. She'd probably never forget the way Micky dropped the bloody bat, sinking to his knees. She'd never forget sitting together, looking at their dad- the person that both of them had nightmares about, the man who haunted both of their dreams like a ghost- lying dead in the car's backseat. Eventually Mickey stood up, saying "Gimme a hand, Mand." and laughing a little at the rhyme. Everything felt surreal as they wrapped Terry's body in some plastic wrap and carried him, Mandy at the feet, Mickey at the head, to the water. "One, two, three, like turning rope, okay?" Mickey had said, and Mandy had nodded, and they'd swung him and then let go and watched their father's body arc and splash into the water. "Bye, Dad." Mandy remembered whispering. Mickey had come over and held her hand. The drive back had been much quieter- they stopped a few times to drop bits of skull and his hands into different dumpsters along the way. Milkoviches were nothing if not thorough. At a gas station, while Mickey was filling the van, Mandy went and got a jumbo bag of Swedish fish and two beers, and they ate the fish the whole way home. Mandy sang along to the radio, and Mickey made fun of her Top 40, and she said "Ian's a really good guy, you know," and he said "I know," and she gave him a kiss on the cheek, and the sun rose as they passed the highway sign that said "Chicago, 20 miles.")

So no, Mandy didn't miss any of the people she'd lost- maybe Svetlana, but she wasn't even very far away, and sometimes Mandy went to visit her at her new little apartment where she lived with the baby, or at The Alibi Room when business was slow. Yuri was a good baby, and Mandy was trying to be a good aunt. Mickey was trying to be a good dad, too, and they'd had the baby sleep over a couple times. Mickey freaked out before every single visit, making sure the crib they'd gotten from the Gallaghers didn't have any splinters sticking out of it and disinfecting toys with baby wipes and counting diapers. Watching her thug brother sitting cleaning a bright red rattle was good entertainment, but having a little baby sleep over every week or so didn't make the house feel any fuller the rest of the time. Mandy was lonely, and she was pretty surprised by it- after all those years of wishing for her own bathroom, she was spending all her time sitting on the couch feeling uncomfortable in a quiet house.

She'd been hanging out at the Gallaghers a lot, spending time with Ian, and Mickey had been too, but she knew that her sleeping on Debbie's floor and Mickey sleeping on Ian's, pretending they weren't sneaking into Frank and Monica's old room every night to fuck, wasn't a great long-term arrangement. (Plus, Mickey and Ian weren't that sneaky. She'd seen Fiona cleaning the sheets. Everyone knew.)

So maybe it wasn't that weird that Mandy, after another slightly-too-quiet microwave dinner with Mickey, paused their Xbox game and asked "Would it be weird if we asked Ian if he wanted to come live with us?"

"Live with us, Mandy, what the hell?" Mickey had said, obviously trying and failing to look like he hadn't thought about it, like, a million times.

"Yeah, jackoff. Live with us. I mean, his house is pretty full. And ours is really empty. And I don't know, I just… thought it could be nice."

Mickey had rubbed his lip, staring off into space a little. After a few seconds, Mandy had gotten impatient, getting up and saying "forget it" as she walked off to her room.

"Mandy, wait!" Mickey had shouted. Then quieter, "where would he sleep?", and Mandy hadn't known whether to cry or laugh at her hopeless fucked up brother, so she did what felt like the in between move and hugged him tight. "He'd sleep with you, dummy. Or in Iggy's room, if you guys don't want to give up your 'sneaking into other people's rooms and having sex' thing, which, you know, I won't judge what you get off on."

Mickey had scrunched up his face, looking at Mandy like she was an idiot, and maybe she was because at the time Mandy hadn't even considered any possible downsides to inviting Ian to come live with them.

Today, a month or so later, the day Ian was going to actually drag over his duffel bag and set up shop? Now she knew there were about a million different downsides, and they all sucked. Like, the fact that Mickey had become an obsessive cleaner. A few days ago when Mandy had come home and made some mac 'n cheese, he'd freaked out and yelled at her for not immediately washing her dishes. "What is this place, fuckin' pigsty? Jesus, stop leaving dishes in the sink, Mandy, who d'you think's gotta clean up this shit?!!", he'd said, ignoring the fact that it was her, actually, who cleaned the dishes in the sink nine times out of ten. "Hey, Mandy, do we have any Febreze or whatever? This house smells like asscrack," he'd say, and Mandy had to go steal some Febreze from the supply closet at work. "Mandy, do you know if we got any more nails?" he'd asked, casually, when she'd come home to a living room full of collapsed shelves and Mickey, in the middle, doing "remodeling." It was enough to make her want to rip her hair out, and she wasn't even the one who was getting sex out of all of this. Plus, there was the fact that when either Mickey or Ian needed someone to talk to about the relationship, they had to fucking come to her. She couldn't just hang out with Ian anymore without being subjected to a whole round of questions like "was this your idea or Mickey's?" or "is this supposed to be a couple thing, me moving in, or am I overanalyzing?" or "do you think he's excited?" or "do you think he'll be okay with me sleeping in his room?" or "what should I wear to move in day?" to which Mandy had to respond with "who gives a shit," "how is moving in to your boyfriend's house _not_ a couple thing," "Jesus, Ian, he cleaned his room for the first time in eight years, what do you think," "you're asking if my teenage brother wants to have daily sex with you," and "I don't fucking know what you should wear to goddamn 'moving day,' and anyway it's in like 2 weeks why are you deciding this now you weirdo."Mickey was worse, though, because at least Ian would tell you what he was thinking. Mickey just did really weird shit, like coming into her room and sitting next to her and staring at the wall for several minutes until she'd snap "WHAT?" and he'd go "nothing," and she'd have to say "Ian's excited too," and he'd say "I say anything about Gallagher? That's cool, I guess," while looking like a kid on Christmas Day. She didn't know if she could take it anymore. Sometimes she just wanted to lock them in a room together and let them fuck their brains out for a few days, so maybe they'd stop asking these dumb questions.

"Hey, Mandy, you ready yet? We're gonna be late!" Mickey shouted from outside her room. Mandy looked over at her clock- it was 8:30. "Mick, we're not supposed to be there until like 9:45," she groaned. "Calm the shit down." He came barging in, and Mandy screeched "Jesus, Mickey, I could've been naked or something, god." He just stood there and looked at her in her T-shirt and skinny jeans putting on eyeliner stolen from Rite Aid, and Mandy started to feel absurdly guilty for someone who hadn't actually done anything wrong except assume that they were following normal people rules where 8:30 was not late when you were meant to get somewhere over an hour later. "Fine, Mick," she'd said quietly, "Let's go." Grabbing her sneakers and a jacket, Mandy walked out of the room and wrapped an arm around her brother. "Fucking finally," he said, and she rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the side. "Fuck you, Mick."

In the car, Mickey buzzed with nervous energy, so much that by the time they pulled up to Gallagher's Mandy was slightly worried he was going to throw up or something. "Mick, you gonna be okay?" she asked softly. "Yeah, yeah Mands, I'm fine, let's do this." So they walked up to the Gallagher front door together, Mickey almost knocking but then saying "fuck it" and pulling the door open. 

Inside, it was at normal chaos levels. Liam was crying about something, and Debbie was trying to comfort him with some kind of terrifying doll that looked like Carl had attacked it with a blowtorch. Fiona was at the stove, cooking what looked like pancakes and screaming with laughter at Kev and V. "Debs, bring him over here," she shouted, and Debbie handed Liam over, relief on her face. Fiona just kept talking, seemingly unaffected by the literal screaming child on her hip, and Kev and V both held teeny tiny babies of their own with curly hair, one of whom was sucking on Veronica's ginormous tit. Carl came running down the stairs then, with what looked like nunchucks, and Mandy was overwhelmed as always by how different the Gallaghers house was from hers. At the Milkoviches, even when it was chock full of people, it was never this light and sunny and happy. Everyone always skulked around trying to make as little noise as possible. Here it was like a contest for who could draw the most attention. 

Carl was the first to notice them, shouting "Mandy and Mickey are here!" up the stairs as he sat at the table. Fiona turned around with Liam quieting down on her hip. "Hey guys," she said, sort of smiling sort of grimacing. Mandy wasn't really sure if Fiona really liked or really hated her and Mickey. Like, genuinely no idea. But she figured it was weird to just stand by the door, so she moved slowly and nervously into the kitchen, sitting down next to Carl. "You want me to take him for you?" she asked Fiona, and Fiona handed Liam over- gratefully? begrudgingly? The girl was a closed book. Then Ian came down the stairs, and the whole room lit up, everyone shouting "Ian!" "Buddy!" Mandy figured the best way to get people to like you was to have a going away party- although, everyone had always mostly liked Ian anyway.

"Hey, guys," Ian said, grinning, coming around to hug V, kissing the baby in Kev's arms on the head. "Hey gorgeous," he said, picking up the little girl. Mandy was struck by how genuinely good Ian was, and then struck by how lucky her and Mickey were, that they had somehow snared him. Speaking of Mickey- Mandy saw him, standing in the corner of the room, looking incredibly shy and awkward. She was about to go stand next to him- which, honestly, probably wouldn't do anything for the awkwardness, but would at least make him less alone- when Ian caught his eye, and she was glad she hadn't, because god, she didn't want to get in the middle of that. Looking at Ian, her pale, slightly dirty, obnoxious big brother just lit up, and Ian looked even happier- but differently happier. Before, he'd been happy like people were on their wedding day, sort of outwardly happy, trying to prove how happy they are so other people would be happy too, happy so everyone would be comfortable and feel at home. With Mickey, Ian was happy like people were when they didn't think anyone was looking. They literally just stood there, staring at each other, for several long, quiet seconds, while Fiona and V and Kev all raised their eyebrows at each other. V fanned herself a little, and Fiona giggled, and then Lip came stomping down the stairs, shouting "we got food yet?" and the spell was broken and everyone got back to work.

Fuck, Mandy thought, looking forward to endless days of Mickey and Ian staring at each other. This was a terrible idea.


End file.
